Pavlov's syndrome
by bitter-alisa
Summary: Summary: Punk wants Nick. It seems to be simple as that, except it isn't. He can't figure the reasons behind this inexplicable desire and neither can Nick. They both agree to blame basic physiology. But could it be more than that? Slash.
1. Matter of instinct

I came up with an idea for this while listening to "Bryan Wilson" by Barenaked Ladies. It's gonna be a three-shot. I have been suffering a major writer's block so I have no idea how this turned out. Hope you'll enjoy.

Of course, I own nothing and make no profit from it.

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**Chapter 1: Matter of instinct**

When Punk looks at Nick walking around the room, chin up, chest all puffed up, very much resembling a rooster in the pen, he reasons himself into finding him absolutely hilarious:  
The way he thinks he is the greatest thing to happen to this company, but in fact is nothing more than just another butt-monkey - the way Punk sees it.  
The way he seems to imagine that every person out there would do anything to get in his pants, and in the end of the day he ends up stuck with a psycho or an ugly old hag.  
The way he says that "it's not showing off if you can back it up", and there it is, hypocrisy thy name is Nick, because he really _can't_ back it up. At least not now.  
The victories he had lately are completely worthless and the losses – humiliating. It is a shame, really, he _is _underrated, he could do much more and reach way higher, because he has the talent and a certain charisma and something that makes him suitable for this kind of business, but he just ends up being perceived as some sort of a joke – by the management, the viewers, his colleagues and women he dates.

It should make Punk despise him, or pity him, which is even worse, but it doesn't.

Why does he see Nick so differently?

What makes him feel so conflicted?

He'd like to blame some sort of a stupid instinct for the way he wants to rip off that ridiculous pink t-shirt and those tight baby-blue jeans off him and fuck him into his hotel bed and make him scream Punk's name. _Punk's,_ instead of the one he's probably been screaming lately.

This is so stupid: Nick's sleeping with April who used to sleep with Punk who would like to sleep with Nick. All very much like highschool all over again, nothing really changes, except for the settings and the seriousness of the intentions. Primal instincts are all the same, they were like that when he was sixteen, and they are just the same when he is thirty four.

He wants him. This is as about as simple as it gets, and the big question now is what he is going to do about it.

He's long passed the state where he would be too shy or embarrassed to make a pass on someone he found attractive. Over the years he has fought his self-consciousness and insecurity, and now he knows what he is worth, and this thought makes him grin because of how similar it is to how Nick sees himself.

He, however, is easy. Everyone knows that. Punk wouldn't go as far as to call him a man-whore, but a "committed relationship" he seems to be in now certainly isn't all that serious, because both he and April seem to be enjoying company of other people too. Punk is not sure he wants to be just another on the list, he usually doesn't do one night stands, but at this point the lust for him reached the point where he doesn't care anymore.

He just doesn't understand why. Why he wants him at all.

But no matter; CM Punk is used to getting what he wants, and this time is no exception, he thinks when he stops the elevator on the floor Nick is staying, the one right above his own room. He briefly considers the possibility of April being there with Nick, but he is sure that even if she is, he would find an excuse for his unlikely visit.

He is lucky though (no matter how much he sneers at the very concept of luck), when Nick opens the door, seemingly alone and unfortunately fully dressed. All the words and witty remarks seem to have left Punk's head when the blonde is in front of him, looking questioningly, clearly surprised to see Punk in front of his door, at this hour.

"We need to talk," says Punk passing through him inside, even though talking is the last thing he intends to do.

"Sure, come on in, help yourself," is the belated response, but Nick's irony is lost on Punk, who now is mostly concerned with keeping his composure and investigating the familiar smell in Nick's room. It is a girly flowery scent; it reminds him of something he can't quite grasp.

It is the smell that caught his attention to Nick in the first place. The smell that just made him want to jump him right then and there. And now it only makes the matters worse.

How does one start a discussion like this? Or, should he say, a _proposition_ like this?

Nick is leaning on the closed door, still staring at Punk, hoping him to clarify the purpose of his visit. He always liked the Straight Edge superstar, but rarely got the chance to cross paths with him. The fact that they sort of shared the same girlfriend didn't count, even though April was probably the only common ground they had.

There was something about Punk that drove Nick crazy. Something that drove him _towards_ this tattooed rebel. He was attracted to Punk and was not afraid to admit it, at least to himself. What he was afraid, though, was to act on this attraction. He always thought Punk being out of his league, he viewed it all like some sort of celebrity crush, even though such thoughts greatly contrasted with his general attitude that everyone is out there to get in his bed.

This is why Punk's presence drives him insane.

One can never know what to expect from CM Punk, Nick knows that, but what followed a long pause and an equally long mutual stare, is so completely out of context and out of Punk's usual character, that it actually startles him.

Punk approaches him very fast, with determination on his face, and without any kind of preamble pulls him closer and fiercely attacks Nick's lips with his own. For a while Nick is transfixed with shock and just lets himself to be kissed, struck by the impossibility of the situation. Only when Punk attempts to deepen the kiss, completely inattentive to the lack of response to his actions, Nick realizes that it actually is happening and parts his lips to let Punk's demanding tongue in. There is no battle in their kiss, Punk clearly and absolutely dominates Nick's mouth and the latter accepts that the battle is lost completely when he is the first one to need a gasp of air.

"I think you have confused me for April," he says, panting heavily. No matter how much he wants this, he needs to clarify the situation. "I admit, I do smell like her, but… Her room is the next one down the hallway."

Punk throws him an angry glance, his olive eyes darkened with passion.

"I don't see you objecting."

Nick decides to say that he doesn't in his own way, that is, by kissing Punk with all the desire he was capable of.

"You don't fuck around, do you?" he asks with a smirk when Punk's hands slide down to his crotch and start to unbutton his jeans. He finds the look on Punk's face both very aroused and so pricelessly hilarious, that he can't stop himself from snarking even more. "Well, speaking _literally, _you do."

"More of that sass, and you're not getting any."

"Who says I want it?"

"This." Punk's hand cups the growing bulge in Nick's pants, and _oh, _that makes Nick refrain from any further comments. For now.

Punk's hands finally get hold of that annoyingly pink t-shirt he has resented for so long, he finally gets the chance to rip it apart, and so he does. Nick just stands there, half aroused and half amused by this unexpected flash of passion from Punk, allowing him to admire his outstanding physique. Nick indeed _is _an extremely attractive man, Punk would have to be blind to argue with that, and maybe, just _maybe,_ this is the explanation to why he wants him so damn much?

So much that he got a boner from a mere kiss.

Which would be embarrassing, it really would be, if Punk hadn't felt Nick getting hard as well. This makes them even.

He is in no mood for overly long kisses and foreplays, he never is, and this time especially. Very fast he manages to get rid of both Nick's and his own clothes and drag both of them to the bedroom. It's all kissing and gasping and groping, and then Nick's knees hit the side of the bed and he soon finds himself under the Straight Edge superstar.

Punk goes straight down to business: his long fingers sneak in Nick' briefs, the only remaining item of clothing separating him from aggressively horny Punk. One fast pull and the underwear flies across the room, and Punk's mouth is on Nick's inner thigh, biting into soft skin, probably leaving it bruised, but neither of them really cares. Nick's erection lays flat against his stomach, and Punk wraps his hand around the base, pulling it closer to his mouth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around the swollen head. He is skilled, Nick has to admit, when Punk bobs up and down, his cheeks sucking in, and it takes only a few moments for Nick to let out a low, satisfied groan.

"Wow, Punk, you're _good_… Yeah, just like that… Fuck, _ah, _Punk, don't stop," Nick moans, and Punk lifts his head with a smirk.

"What a language, Nicky… Do you kiss her with that mouth?"

"Do _you _kiss her with that mouth?" Nick retorts, and it is a valid point, so Punk says nothing and returns to the task in hand.

Nick thrusts his hips up, waiting for Punk to react negatively and abort all his initiative, but the older man just accepts it, so Nick thrusts again and again, harder and faster, basically fucking Punk's more than eager mouth. This has to be the blowjob of his life, he thinks, no one could compete with the feeling of having Punk's lips around his cock, not even nice, little and quite skilled April's mouth; no, nothing is even close to the sensation Punk gives him, especially when his hands gently squeeze his balls just before him releasing into Punk's hot mouth.

He takes it eagerly but doesn't swallow, he lets the cum pour down onto Nick's ass, since now he's basically folded in half, and is being prepared with his own cum, Punk's fingers probing and scissoring him, stretching and preparing for what's about to replace him. Consciously Nick realizes that he should probably feel grossed out by that, but at this point he finds it strangely arousing, and when Punk's finger hits the special spot, he feels that he's getting hard again.

Nick wants to make some sort of a witty comment about the situation, just to make it less serious, less intense, but he just swallows hard, lightheaded from the pleasure he's getting from Punk's fingers in his ass.

It doesn't take long before Punk pulls down his own briefs and thrusts almost balls deep into Nick's thoroughly prepared entrance. It doesn't hurt, but Punk stills himself inside of him and looks questioningly at Nick.

"Don't you even think of stopping here," he breathes out almost angrily, and Punk grins and obliges. Nick totally loves the feeling of fullness, and moans even louder when Punk's cock collides with his prostate for the first time.

This is heaven. He never felt this good before, with any woman, even with April, whom he had considered to be the best fuck he had so far.

Punk just can't believe how tightly Nick is wrapped around him, and the sounds of skin against skin and loud moans from Nick's open mouth into his are unbelievably satisfying. He pounds heavily in and out, obeying to Nick's beg for fucking him harder, and one part of his mind still can't believe this is actually happening. He is fucking another guy, a person he is not in a relationship with, he fucks him like an animal relaying on basic instincts, driven by pure lust.

He shoves those thoughts in the back of his head.

He's gonna deal with them later, now there is squirming and arching Nick underneath him, whose ass is clenching tighter and tighter around his cock, and there is nothing that could compare to this sensation.

Nick feels the tingling going down his spine and his balls tighten, and it is the first time in his life he comes without even touching himself.

The feeling and the sight of Nick's orgasm bring Punk's own release closer, he moans out his name and fills him with his seed and then collapses motionlessly on top of him.

They both breath very heavily and it takes a while for Punk to come to his senses, to realize what he just did, and hurry up to pull himself together and get out of the room.

He feels embarrassed. He can't recognize himself in this situation. This had never happened to him before.

He wants to run.

Nick, however, does not seem bothered by anything, he lazily stretches out across the bed and watches, bemused, at Punk gathering his stuff scattered all over the place.

"Now, when you piped down, care to tell me what was all that about?" He asks, not exactly expecting an answer; Punk seems way too embarrassed to give him any.

"I wanted you. Didn't I make myself clear? Need to be repeated?" The answer follows reluctantly.

Nick shrugs.

"I thought you didn't do one night stands."

"What can I say, I'm only a man and… it is so hard, when you're so hot and I'm so horny," Punk grins in response, he wants to laugh the situation off, and picks up his hoodie from the floor. "Also, it doesn't have to be one night thing," he adds almost shyly.

"You know I have April, right?" _And so do you, _Nick wants to add, but then he remembers that he is not supposed to know that.

Punk's grin goes even wider.

"Well, if you get tired of monotonous motionless moaning underneath you, you know where to find me, Nicky."

"Wow, you actually called me Nick. Does that mean I get to call you Phil as well?"

"No. Fucking. Way."

With this, the door slams shut.

* * *

Okay, there it is. I feel anxious about the result yet _again,_ so please let me know how it was. Any review is a valuable review. Thank you for reading :)

Also, I have _not _forgotten "Deserving?". It will come. I just feel extremely un-creative about it now.


	2. Matter of conditioning

Here goes the middle part of this three-shot. Hope you guys will enjoy it :)

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**Chapter 2: Matter of conditioning**

The greatest thing about April is that she's nothing like her on-stage persona. She is a bit crazy, yes, but then again, who isn't, and Punk wouldn't have it any other way. She's impulsive, emotional, unpredictable and funny. She is the one he would turn to talk to when Cabana wasn't around; she is the one who would listen to his continuous rants most patiently and the one who manages to calm him down in that one special way only she could.

Punk firmly believed that she was the only one who would fit him so perfectly. He was never a big believer in love and other bullshit like that; she understood him, she was fun to hang out and a reasonably good fuck. That was all he asked, but oddly enough, no one has ever managed to combine all those qualities, definitely not Maria and not even Amy.

This is why Punk is irritated by mere thought of Nick now.

The man was interesting to talk to, he completely understood Punk's position and attitude towards the management of the company while sharing same big love for wrestling. He was definitely fun to be around, they had some sort of correlating sense of humor, both snarky sarcastic arrogant assholes as they are. Given the time, they could have become good friends.

_Not anymore, _thinks Punk turning on the other side of his hotel bed after fruitless efforts to fall asleep. He has been postponing the sorting out the situation for long enough, he has been avoiding Nick ever since, and the younger man didn't seem to be all that eager to talk to him either.

Truth be told, Punk sort of expected a call or a visit the same evening, and the morning after, and the next day… It never happened. Countless times he is just _this _close to calling Nick himself, but every time his number would show up on screen, he would press the _home_ button instead of _call. _It was partly because he feels too embarrassed to ever talk to him again, but mostly because he has no idea what he would actually say. Whatever happened between them was clearly one time occurrence and it obviously didn't leave any impact on Nick. Otherwise he would have called. Punk is not sure why he wanted him to call in the first place, they obviously aren't about to enter any kind of relationship just because they fucked once. He is fairly certain he doesn't feel any kind of romantic attachment to the guy. He is more than certain Nick does not either.

All he has left to do is to blame it all on instincts again. Sex was completely amazing - compared to that, April does, in fact, seem boring and monotonous - and it is only logical that he wants to experience that again.

Physiology. What could be more simple, understandable and justifiable than that?

Punk turns in bed once again and looks at the girl beside him. April is curled up in a ball, wrapped in a blanked and holding it tight as if her life depended on it. Her long soft hair is spread all over the pillows and it tickles Punk's face when he leans in to give her a good morning kiss. They have this on and off relationship for a long while now, no matter whether they are officially single or not, they always end up in each others' embrace, and they are both very much comfortable with that. Maintaining a normal relationship seems tiring to Punk, it always had, even with such a great girl like April. He doesn't love her, not in the traditional meaning of that word; he likes her a lot, he wants her even more, but dealing with her every single day is more than he can handle.

She seems to be of the same opinion on this.

Her eyes shot open the moment his lips touch hers. She allows only a little innocent peck before turning her pretty little face on side.

"Jeez, Punkers, I thought you'd never stop twisting and turning," she frowns lightly at him, not sleepy at all, her deep brown gaze fixed on his face. Apparently he'd woken up her long ago, and he feels slightly guilty about it. Her expression turns slightly mischievous when she continues, "I bet you could sleep perfectly with Nick next to you." She grins widely, not a slightest trace of mocking on her face.

Punk is both shocked and embarrassed, and it is definitely the combination he rarely experiences.

"I didn't _sleep _with him," Punk corrects almost automatically. "How'd you know?" He manages to ask, not looking away, still trying to catch a sign of judgment, contempt or at least jealousy, but none follows.

"He told me, of course. Right after you left him there, all alone and confused," April giggles, apparently remembering confused and disturbed Nick, and Punk imagines that it is, indeed, a sight to behold.

"What, he just called you out of blue and said he'd slept with me?"

"Basically, yes," She nods. "He was completely shocked. He needed to talk to someone, so he thought of no one better than someone who has slept with both him _and _you."

"I take it he still doesn't know about us."

"He wouldn't mind. Not given current events."

That is a no, Punk understands. It has been a long and often repeated discussion – whether she should tell Nick about her _relationship _with Punk or not; Punk insisted that he shouldn't know, and April felt uncomfortable – she hated the thought of cheating, and wanted to be sure that Nick is ok with their open relationship. They never settled the matter, and surely aren't going to do it now, because April continues with the story.

""I asked whether he fucked you or you fucked him, and how did he like it," She can't resist giggling once again. "He said it was amazing."

Punk blushes, against his will.

"Of course, it was, I said, he's the best in the world, not just in wrestling," April smiles gently, looking at Punk, now completely red with embarrassment.

"It sounds like some sort of a lame commercial of me," He mutters.

"Look, Punk," she gets on her elbows and looks down at Punk, serious and composed. "It is nothing to be ashamed about. It is nothing to avoid him for either."

"So now he says _I_ am avoiding_ him_? He didn't even call or talk to me afterwards."

"Don't be like that, Punk, of course you _are _avoiding him. I know you. You're good at avoiding." She sighs. "You should've been the one to call."

"It almost sounds like you're rooting for us," Punk half-asks, with a healthy dose of skepticism in his voice. He knew April wasn't at all the jealous type, but this was beyond even her standards.

"Of course I am. I think you guys are great for each other."

"Let me clear this one up for you," Punk says, also getting up, so April wouldn't look down on him. "There's no _us_ in me and Nick. There's not gonna be any relationship or any other shit like that. I have no idea what gotten into me that night, but whatever that was, it's not gonna happen again."

"Pity," sighs April once again, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. "I would have totally joined you two."

When she emerges in the bedroom again, Punk is already up, he's picking up his clothes and stuffing them into his bag, ready to go for a workout. The scent of some unknown flowers and sweet spices fills the air, April's usual perfume which Punk loves so much, the smell that makes him want to pull her closer, the smell that makes him want her even more.

He vaguely remembers sensing it somewhere else, somewhere it didn't belong.

"Hey, do you share your perfume with someone, by any chance?"

"Yeah, actually, Nick has borrowed it once or twice, and I've convinced him to get himself the same since he loves that smell on his skin after he's been with me," April explains, braiding her wet hair, already approaching the door. "Why?"

"Just asking," Punk manages to force out of himself. "See you later, AJ."

"Bye, Punkers," She shouts already halfway through the door, leaving Punk sitting on the bed with a completely terrified expression on his face.

It is unpleasant, yes, but it explains everything. He wanted April. Nick smelled like April, so he wanted Nick too. Simple as that. Some Russian psychologist has explained something like this with dogs; Punk remembers it from highschool biology. Something about bells and salivating.

_It is just that simple,_ Punk realizes. _Ring a bell and I'll salivate, how'd you like that_?

Just a simple conditioning. This is how it all sums up, nothing out of ordinary physiology, nothing wrong with him, just some damn perfume which played a role of some sort of a trigger for his instinctive desire.

It is both a relief and a little bit of a disappointment. Punk is glad it all had such a simple explanation and he doesn't have to bother himself with sorting his feelings out, he is happy he can continue to live his life as usual, acknowledging what happened, and knowing he personally had nothing to do with the unfortunate occurrence. There is a tiny part of him, however, that is not entirely happy with this impulse-instinct thing, the tiny part that agrees with April and feels like he and Nick would be great together, not just for a thoughtless primal sex, but for something much more.

But he'd be damned if he would ever let himself to admit that.

All in all, he feels much better and his mood is brighter than it has been lately when he heads out to the gym. However, it is soon ruined when he sees a familiar car parked near the entrance. What evil power made him come to the same gym at the same time as the person he wanted to see the least?

Punk hardly contains the urge to run back to the safety of his hotel room. He might be good at avoiding, but he would never let anyone, even himself, to call him a coward. He can perfectly co-exist in one room with Nick without having to talk to him. However, talking is the last thing he's afraid of doing – he is not sure whether he will be able control his damned instincts. He isn't quite sure how it all works, but despite that he braces himself and enters the gym.

Nick is the first thing he sees; somehow Punk is able to pick him from all the other people in the room. He's lifting weights, concentrated, determined and completely unaware of Punk's presence. He's shirtless, wearing only tight shorts, sweat running down his hairless chest, eyes closed, absolute focus on the task in hand.

The smell of sweat, various deodorants and some cleaning solutions fills the air, but standing right next to Nick Punk can feel a barely-there trace of April's perfume. He coughs, trying to snap out of the daze the smell has gotten him into, and this is when Nick opens his eyes and notices Punk's unblinking, unmoving stare.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," He smirks, stepping back, demonstratively giving Punk a full view of his body.

"Pass," Punk throws back, lowering his head and making his way to the other side of the room to start his workout.

The encounter, brief as it was, sets the mood for the entire workout session. Punk tries his best to concentrate on the exercise he's supposed to be doing, and the only thing Nick is aimed to do is to show off. The atmosphere between them gets more and more electrified with every passing minute, and the people between them don't seem to be any obstacle for both men to feel the tension.

Punk sighs with immense relief when Nick stops parading around and heads towards the showers.

His own workout is almost over, but he decides to wait out. Wait until he is absolutely sure that Nick is gone. The very last thing he needs right now is an extremely awkward encounter with him in the shower or a locker room. And he is absolutely sure that it would be _most _awkward.

How long can it take a man to shower? Twenty minutes? Half an hour? Time passes and there is still no sight of Nick leaving, and Punk thinks that he just might have missed it. His guess seems to be true when he enters the bathroom. It is blissfully empty, so he undresses and takes a quick shower.

When he gets out, wrapped in a tiny towel which covers only his lower part, he's not alone. His stare hits a certain blonde in yet _another _annoyingly bright pink t-shirt, leaning on the door to otherwise empty bathroom.

"Forgot your lip gloss or something?" Punk asks mockingly, just not to give away the way he actually feels about Nick's presence.

"…or something," Replies the show-off with a trademark grin plastered on his face. "Figured might as well get the _other _kind of exercise while I'm here."

"Not gonna happen," Punk shoots back, getting closer to the door and Nick next to it. "That was a one-time offer, unless by exercise you mean purposely annoying me."

Nick completely ignores the last part of the sentence.

"One-time offer? And yet again, here I was thinking you don't do one night stands."

"Feel free not to remind me of my principles - I know them better than you."

"Apparently also how to bend them to fit your needs," Nick taunts.

"Look, Nick," Punk sighs, feeling like he already had this conversation today. This whole situation had begun to seriously irritate him. "Let me clear this up. What happened that night was a onetime mistake, and I'll do my best not to repeat it again. You smelled like April, and I find it really hard to resist that particular scent. Ever heard of Pavlov's syndrome?" The confused look on Nick's face hints that he hasn't, so Punk continues with his explanation, feeling more awkward than ever. "He had those dogs he'd experiment on. They'd salivate each time he-"

"I know what it is, Punk, I went to school," Nick frowns annoyed. Now he is much closer than Punk remembered him to be initially, and the scent filled the air around him, gets right into his nostrils and into his system, making for a very uncomfortable situation under his towel.

"I call bullshit on this, though," Nick flashes a smile again. "You _like _me, Punkers, don't deny it, and it's not because of some stupid smell which apparently gives you an instant boner," he says. "You like me more than that."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but-"

"This is why I thought of trying something," Punk is interrupted again, and suddenly there's Nick's lips on his, very soft, very tender touch, almost seeming as if Nick was afraid to be pushed away. Punk does no such thing. He can't.

Not entirely against his own will, he not only allows himself to be kissed, but also starts to answer the kiss, just as softly and carefully, scared and uncertain of his actions and reactions. He is a bit surprised by how good, how _right _it feels, to have Nick's lips moving against his, a perfect sync, as if they were made for each other. They don't rush this time, there is a lot of slow tasting and licking before Nick gently, but firmly places his hand on the back of Punk's neck, pulling him closer, subtly forcing him deeper in the kiss, his tongue asking for entrance. For a split second Punk hesitates, but he still parts his lips, letting Nick in, and their tongues intertwine, their teeth clack together, and here it is – a second of perfection.

No way it could be mere physiology, because nothing could ever explain or define this feeling, this taste and warmth, this immediate urge to wrap his hand around Nick's waist and never let go; _the old dude with his dogs completely missed the point_, Punk thinks, exploring Nick's warm mouth with his tongue, his eyes shut closed, his body pressing into Nick's so it is physically impossible to be any closer.

It ends abruptly; Nick pulls back, and Punk's eyes open, meeting hazy blue stare.

"You see?" He asks, and all Punk can think about is how he feels Nick's breath on his skin, this is why he is unable to compose any coherent answer.

"Think about it," are the last words Nick whispers, before leaving Punk alone and aroused in the middle of the bathroom. _It must be some sort of revenge_, he thinks, Nick leaving him like that, all alone and with everything so much more complicated than before he appeared.

It seems like Punk is going to need another shower.

* * *

And there it is. The moment Punk thinks all is figured out, Nick messes it up again :D please tell me what you people thought. It's really important to me.

Also, if you wonder what the perfume is, I was inspired by "Opportune". I don't think AJ is using it, but that scent drives me crazy ;)


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